


ben hardy blurbs — fluff/angst

by laedymoonarchive



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:19:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26264848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laedymoonarchive/pseuds/laedymoonarchive
Summary: a collection of multiple fluff/angst blurbs/headcannons abt ben hardy
Relationships: Ben Hardy & You, Ben Hardy/Reader
Kudos: 5





	ben hardy blurbs — fluff/angst

**Author's Note:**

> \--- this is a repost of content originally published on my tumblr. i no longer use it and am slowly getting rid of my posts, so everything i've written is being archived here ---

**request: A1 - “I think we should break up.” + A16 - “You said this time it’d be different.” with Ben**

the routine after ben wraps a new project is the always the much same. a media circuit, countless invitations and events, an ocean or two between you and him for weeks on end.

the routine between the two of you never differs much, either. all superficial happy-voices when you speak on the phone, showy cheek kisses and intertwined hands whilst you attend the obligatory red carpets once he finally returns home.

after his first few big projects, you would start to feel positively sick whenever the end of filming neared. not that the early mornings and late nights are especially nourishing to your kinship, but at least ben’s _home_. at least he’s with you. at least you don’t constantly feel like things could tip over some unknown precipice with the slightest row.

and the distance, the time zones, the fact that _you’ve really never liked parties at all_ ; it stretches your relationship so thin it turns sheer.

but not this time, ben promised.this time, he’d make more of an effort. and so would you. keep up those nightly phone calls you always committed to and somehow ended up neglecting.

it didn’t take long for such assurances to come undone.

“you said it’d be different this time.” you say softly into the phone. you don’t want to sound accusatory, but it’s the first night in five that he’s picked up your call.

“i’m trying, y/n.” you wince at the sharp edge in his tone. it prompts you to reply a little more tersely than you’d planned.

“and you reckon i’m not? christ, i’m tired of this, ben.”

“ _you’re fucking tired_.” he scoffs darkly.

“yeah. bloody knackered trying to make this work.”

you and ben exhale in frustrated tandem before he speaks. “i don’t know what more i can do. i have to _do this_. it’s my job.”

and _he’s right, he’s right, he’s right_. you can’t ask him to forfeit what he’s worked painstakingly for, just for a couple of hours of inane chatter over the phone.

“you there?” you can picture him. arm bent on his knee as he sits on the edge of the hotel bed. or perhaps the balcony, if he’s fancying a cigarette. dark circles under his eyes - he never sleeps well away from home. raking his hand through his blonde hair. pretty lips parted in annoyance. how you fucking wish he was here, and you could kiss those lips, pretend all your problems were nonexistent for just a few hours.

but he’s not.

“i think we should break up.” you’re afraid of the weight of your words. they come out barely a whisper.

a twisted bark comes through the phone. “are you having me on?”

you shake your head, and somehow, even though he can’t see you, ben responds.

“no. we’re not doing this. not over the bloody phone.” he says breathily.

“that’s us, ben. our whole relationship’s over the bloody phone.”

“please, love.” ben’s voice cracks. “just wait until i’m home.”

you know if you wait, you’ll talk. and if you talk, you’ll stay. and if you stay, it’ll be more of the same. more that you can’t take.

“y/n?” but ben sounds so desperate. he’s got another week to get through, one he surely won’t be able to front up for if he knows that he’ll be returning to an empty flat.

so you say “okay. i’ll wait for you.”

“i love you, ben.” you add before you hang up. you don’t want the last thing you’ve said to be a lie.

\-------------

**request: fluff 26 and 46 with benny boo? thank u ☺️💕**

  * when the casual sex with ben started, you’re not quite sure. somewhere between a few bottles of wine and a mutual need to get off, you’d found yourself in bed with one of your best mates. and you were surprised by how _not-weird_ it was waking up next to him. how natural it felt to have him between your thighs. 
  * and so it happened again. and again. _and again._ before long it just became _a thing_. ben and you fuck. it’s not discreet, it’s not romantic, it’s not dramatic. it’s just good, old-fashioned, excellent sex with no strings attached. 
  * or at least, that’s what you’re trying to remind yourself. but it’s hard. it’s hard not to want him when he’s so sweet, and such a damn good kisser. 
  * it’s _hard_ at times like this, after an epic fuck, when he’s all tired and clingy and drapes himself over you. 
  * ben’s blonde head is resting on your lower abdomen, having spent the past hour eating you out with fervour. your hands are threaded in his soft hair, and his rest on your thighs. he yawns against the faded t-shirt you threw on, something to the effect of _i should be going._
  * you feel disappointed. _why do you feel disappointed?_
  * all you’re supposed to want with ben outside the realms of friendship is a good shag. and since you’re obviously both too knackered for a round three, what is you wish he would hang around for?
  * _it’s not morning yet._ you find yourself saying softly. your skin already feels colder when he lifts his head slightly to look at you.
  * _do you want me to stay?_
  * you nod a little apprehensively, but ben’s face breaks into a slightly cocky grin the minute you agree. he pushed himself up, laying against the headboard and manoeuvring you so your head lays on his chest. _only had to ask, love._
  * you respond with a soft laugh, lacing his fingers in your and pressing soft kisses to his knuckles. _god_. he moans from behind you. _could you stop being so fucking cute?_




End file.
